In Morrison's Saturday morning for the usual top-up of what we forgot to buy.
Other customers at the checkouts seemd to have articulated trolleys carrying a month's supplies for a family of ten.
Waited patiently while the couple in front loaded the checkout with food piled like a mountain range, then loaded their bags, paid and departed with enough supplies to survive a sizeable biblical siege.
During this time the young assistant chatted cheerfully about her job, commented on various food items which she liked or didn't.
Our turn comes and we only have enough to fill two carrier bags – so our checkout chatter engaged us in enjoyable comment about our pineapple, the creme caramele, the chilli cream crackers.
Aged 19 she recently tried to prepare a fresh pineapple for the first time, but was left with butchered pulp, but she thought the creme carameles looked nice enough to eat, and the chilli crackers she confessed were one of her habits.
Enter behind us customer with protruding bottom lip – not a natural physiological phenomenon but a highly visible signal of disapproval that she was being delayed by a lassie's friendliness.
Instead of protruding my tongue, or using my lips to form words like 'Smile God loves you', I decided to do it for her, and smiled disarmingly as those who know me know I can.
Didnae work – and our loquacious friendly, light-hearted checkout assistant continued her running commentary on our dietary tastes (garlic this time) oblivious of looming clouds of customer checkout rage.
Behind her the protruding lip was dangerously reaching maximum disapproval extension, reinforced now by lowering eyebrows and folded arms.
At which point I put my plastic into the PIN pad and commented in my most winsome tones to our stressed out customer, so allergic to conversation, laughter, friendliness and fun, "Isn't it nice to have somebody who talks to the customers?"
Didnae work – she obviously didn't know who I was, and didn't want to.
Left me with a new understanding of the phrase "customer service".
I think those who serve customers should be served their fair share of courtesy, appreciation, understanding, friendliness, and downright respect.
Know which one I'd rather meet at a party – or a football match – or a supermarket for that matter.
Wish the Morrison's training staff had witnessed this.
Maybe she isn't good at preparing a fresh pineapple – but she is very good at what she does at the checkout – and we said so – loudly.
……………………….
With this post Living Wittily passes the milestone of 1000 posts. In celebration, consolation or consternation, tomorrow I will repost the raison d'etre of this blog. A gentle reminder to me and those who visit, why I think all those words have some value beyond the pleasure of writing them.
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